


Wanted

by flitterflutterfly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Evil!Fury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterflutterfly/pseuds/flitterflutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Captain America is found frozen in ice, not all is well. Body weak and heart frail, he is nowhere near the hero Nick Fury was expecting. To boost him into the man he is supposed to be, Fury steals one of Tony Stark’s back up arc reactors. As Steve gets both better and worse simultaneously, Tony sets out to confront SHIELD to save the once-hero from Fury’s overconfident mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cap/Iron Reverse Big Bang and this art by [nix_this](http://nix-this.livejournal.com). Thanks to worthyapplepie for betaing.

“Director Fury, sir.”

Fury looked up from his paperwork at the harried doctor. “Yes, Dr. Hamsun?”

Hamsun coughed, white-faced. “There’s a problem.”

Ten minutes later, Fury sat straight-backed in his leather chair, hands clasped tightly. “Bring in Agent Coulson.”

“I’m here,” Coulson slipped around the corner of the office, a frown on his face.

“Dismissed, Hamsun,” Fury barked. The doctor left quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” Coulson breathed. “Captain America, a heart problem? It’s just…”

“Not what we’d hoped for,” Fury snapped. “And it’s not a heart problem, it’s a heart irregularity.”

“What now?” Coulson sat down. “You can’t just force a heart to work properly. Not when it needs to run a body like the Captain’s.”

Fury unclasped his hands and laid them flat on the table, a thought coalescing into an idea. “He’s not dead. Not yet.”

“Well no,” Coulson frowned, not quite getting it. “But he won’t be able to do much of anything for the rest of his life. No running, definitely no fighting.”

“I wonder,” Fury murmured. He pushed around the papers on his desk, thumbing over a small black and white photo of Iron Man.

.-.-.-.-.-.

The cold was seeping into him, claws of ice grabbing his heart and wrenching. Steve struggled against them, batting them away with arms too heavy to work properly. “No, no,” he gasped.

Bucky smiled as he fell off the railroad tracks, the sound of a train turning into the silence of the artic.

“No!”

Steve sat up, gasping. His right hand was clutching as his own chest. His skin was freezing to the touch and his body flinched away from itself.

“Captain, calm down,” a woman, dressed in blue and white, made soothing motions with her arms. Steve stared at her, incomprehensible for a moment too long.

“Who are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m your nurse, Captain,” she said. “We’re all glad to see you awake. The doctor should be here in just a moment.”

“Doctor?” Steve shook his head, trying to clear away the fog. “Where—what’s going on? Where’s Red Skull?”

A flash of confusion came and went on the nurse’s face. Steve found clarity return to him like a punch and he kept his eyes on her as he moved his head to try to catalogue the room through peripheral vision.

There was a knock on the door and then two men walked in. One wore a suit, the other a long coat and an eye patch. The latter was a step in front and though he was quite obviously a person of color, Steve could instantly tell he was the man in charge.

“Director,” the nurse murmured. “Dr. Hamsun?”

“He wants to speak with you,” the director jerked his head and the nurse nodded, closing the door behind her. “Captain,” he greeted once she’d left. “I’m Director Nick Fury of the Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate, SHIELD.” He jerked his chin to his left. “This is Agent Coulson.”

“Hello,” Steve said to them both. He noticed Coulson’s eyes flicker down to his torso and suddenly he remembered the cold of his hand. Steve looked down and froze as he took note of the glowing… thing in his chest.

“We were planning on assimilating you to this a little slower,” Fury said. “I’m afraid plans have changed.”

“What?” Steve asked, ripping his eyes away from whatever it was that now felt like a live wire against his skin.

Fury and Coulson exchanged a glance. “The future, Captain,” the director said. He walked over to the window and pulled up the screen holding back the light. “Welcome to the future.”

Steve stared out the flashing billboards, ears picking up the sounds of cars, though how could there be so many?, many feet below. “The future,” he repeated. “And what does that have to do with,” he paused and traced the edge of the metal in his chest, “this?”

Coulson cleared his throat and, slowly, almost hesitantly, began to explain.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Tony tightened the bolt, wiping his forehead with a well-practiced swipe of his arm, and dropped the hatch back on easily. He jumped to his feet, biting at his bottom lip as he held the wrench out for one of the many helping arms to take from his hand. “JARVIS,” he called.

“Yes, Mister Stark?” JARVIS answered promptly.

“Run the diagnostic on the engine, would you?” Tony grabbed one of his many sets of protective glasses and slipped them on.

“Yes, Mister Stark,” JARVIS beeped.

There was a short pause, and then the engine whirred to life, sparking up in a visual wave. Tony watched it for a moment, frowning. “Shut it off, JARVIS,” he commanded.

JARVIS did with no audio comment. Tony hardly noticed as he held his hand out for his wrench back. When nothing fell into his palm, he blinked and looked around.

All of his robotic aides were frozen in their last position. “JARVIS?”

The AI didn’t respond for long enough that Tony to start get finally worried. Before he could actually do anything about it, however, movement began again as if it’d never stopped.

“I apologize, sir,” JARVIS intoned. “There seems to have been a glitch in my system.”

“Glitch?” Tony waved away the wrench, more concerned now about things more important than the jet plane engine. “Elaborate, if you could?”

“I seem to have been tampered with, sir,” JARVIS said. Had it been any other circumstance, Tony might have chuckled, but as it was he walked over to his computer-table and palmed over it, quickly finding JARVIS’ programming in the mass of files.

“Let’s see,” Tony muttered to himself. Louder, he said, “Don’t worry, JARVIS. We’ll get this figured out in no time.”

“I have faith in your abilities, sir,” JARVIS said in his usual dry tone. Tony smiled to himself.

Five minutes later, he wasn’t smiling at all. “Dammit.” Running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, Tony growled. “JARVIS see if you can trace back this hack to its original source. I’ll see if I can’t figure out what it is they wanted.”

“I shall try my best, sir,” JARVIS acknowledged.

Tony’s fingers raced across the virtual keyboard. The security cameras had been put on loop, something he’d thought he’d coded to prevent. Luckily, it had only been for a short period of time, half an hour. Though, that was probably why Tony hadn’t noticed it in the first place.

Most of the rooms feed was untouched, but the hallway leading to the lab and then down to the lab itself both were altered. Tony tried to reverse it, only to find that it wasn’t that the video had been deleted, it had never even been recorded.

“Fuckers,” he cursed. “What do you have on your end, JARVIS?”

“I have managed to find the end to the loop, sir,” JARVIS answered. “Transferring data to your screen.”

Tony frowned as the log popped up. “Search, owner seems to be a Victor Mann.”

“Searching,” JARVIS said. “Found, Victor Mann, 33, unmarried, known agent at SHIELD.”

“Huh,” Tony rocked back on his heels. “One sec, let me try something.”

Tony went back to the programming, but this time, instead of trying to get the video surveillance back, he worked to  _repeat_  the last set of coding done.

With a click, a cabinet to Tony’s left opened. Tony glanced down and let out a harsh breath as he saw the container that had contained his back-up arc reactor.

Had, being the correct phrasing as now the container stared back at him, empty.

“JARVIS,” Tony said slowly. “We need to get all of SHIELD’s recent reports. I mean all of them, highest level security clearance. I want the ones only Fury can see and I want them now.”

A part of him hoped that Agent Mann was working solely, a independent crime lord or a double-crosser. The logical voice in his head, however, knew that no single agent could pull of this theft.

Tony never had trusted Fury.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve’s body itched, not in a physical sense but in a sense of longing. He  _longed_  to lengthen his stride, to run, sprint, as fast as he could. But Dr. Hamsun had said no running until they figured out why Steve wasn’t recovering as fast as they’d thought he would.

If he had a vote, Steve would blame the glowing device that supposedly was the thing keeping his heart going, but no one asked him.

Steve turned a sharp corner, forcing himself to continue to walk at a steady pace down the monotonous hallways of the SHIELD building. He was only allowed to see what was probably a small portion of the whole compound, but what he could he saw often. Or at least, walked through often.

It was the only break to his otherwise boring days of ‘recovery’, these daily walks that spanned two floors, three times over.

Dr. Hamsun said he was pushing himself to much, but the man had yet to order him to stop so Steve ignored the advice. He wasn’t in the mood to trust anyone as SHIELD, not even Agent Coulson, who was by far the most understanding person he’d met yet.

“-ever in my life,” a voice reached Steve’s ear, sounding extremely peeved. “I fucking pay for SHIELD, you bastard, and you thank me by  _stealing_?”

Steve slowed, curious despite himself. He’d never really been a practitioner of eavesdropping, but what they said about desperate times…

“My agents tell me you read the locked reports,” that was Fury. “You know why it was necessary.”

“And you couldn’t just ask me?” the other was definitely frustrated, judging by his tone.

There was movement coming from behind the door, as if someone had just shifted. “You were not in the need to know, Stark.”

“Not in the kn-” Steve drowned out the rest of the sentence, stuck on the name Fury had said.

Stark?

A wave of dizziness came over him like a tidal surge. Steve caught himself on the wall, lungs heaving as his vision blurred. By the time he felt he could move again, his limbs were shaking violently.

Maybe Dr. Hamsun had been right about him overworking himself, Steve thought. He stumbled away from the door. Maybe he’d hallucinated the name, so desperate to have some familiarity in this cold future.

Steve coughed quietly and forced himself to walk away, not looking back at the door even as the voices from inside raised loudly.

.-.-.-.-.-.

“What will it do to him?” Pepper asked softly.

Tony rubbed his temple. “I don’t know-”

“Tony,” Pepper warned.

“I honestly can’t be certain,” Tony told her. “The arc reactor was never made to keep a heartbeat regular like Fury is using it for. It wasn’t even made to be put in a human body at all.”

“But you did it,” Pepper muttered.

“And it nearly killed me,” Tony said.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone. “Will it kill him?” she asked hesitantly, as if she truly didn’t want to know the real answer.

“It might,” Tony murmured. “The one they’re using, it’s the palladium.”

“Would vibranium be better?”

“Maybe.”

“Tony…” Pepper sighed. “He doesn’t deserve… It’s Captain America.”

“I know,” that came out harsher than he’d intended. Tony took a couple of calming breaths and repeated, “I know, Pepper. Really, he needs a completely new model, catered to him.”

“Then make it,” Pepper demanded, as if he didn’t already have enough on his plate.

Tony sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

“I’ve never known you to be one to give up, Mr. Stark,” Pepper remarked dryly.

Tony hesitated, running through the different answers in his head before he finally settled on, “You might know me too well, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper’s relieved breath was audible over the phone connection. “I have to go, there’s a meeting with the Board…”

“Good luck,” Tony smirked, knowing that over at Stark Industries she was rolling her eyes at him.

“Goodbye, Tony,” Pepper said pointedly. With a beep, she hung up.

Tony set down his phone and stared at it, before dragging over the nearest computer.

It wasn’t unusual for him to pull an all-nighter and even when he headed over to SHIELD the next morning, all that showed for his long evening was slightly darker bags under his eyes.

What was unusual were the agents waiting for him at the hanger door. “Sirs,” Tony greeted.

“If you’ll come with us,” one of them said, grabbing Tony roughly by the arm.

“Hey now,” Tony backed away, only to be blocked in by another agent. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Excuse us, Mr. Stark,” the second agent had the decency to look a bit ashamed. “Director’s orders.”

“Fury!” Tony called as he was thrown into one of the holding cells  _he’d_  helped design. “Get your ass over hear and explain.”

“Calm down, Stark,” Fury’s voice came on over the intercom. “You know better than to try to hack into SHIELD records.”

“And you should have known better than to steal from my lab,” Tony yelled back.

“This isn’t permanent, Tony,” Fury sounded tired. “We don’t need you messing up our procedures.”

Tony paled as he realized why exactly he’d been placed there. “You’re going to kill him, Fury. Your scientists have no idea what they’re doing, you know they don’t.”

“You built your little toy in a cave,” Fury snapped. “SHIELD has access to some of the most advanced technology in the world.”

“Because I gave it to you!” Tony punched his fist against the enforced glass of his holding cell. He wished, in that moment, for nothing more than his Iron Man suit, but it was in holding at his lab and there was no way he could get it here.

The intercom clicked off and Tony cursed wildly.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve coughed weakly, trying to roll over on his side only to be stopped by the wires hooked up to his body.

He groaned, closing his eyes against the harsh light shining above him. Vaguely, he heard distant voices.

“-weaker,” one said.

“It’s the palladium,” another mentioned. “Stark synthesized a new element for his current model.”

“Vibranium?” the first hummed.

“This is pointless,” a third stated. “Can’t we just take the one out of Iron Man’s chest? It’s not like he actually needs it.”

“You sure that won’t kill him?” the second asked.

Steve tried to hold onto the conversation, but the voices began to slip out of his grasp and he was pulled back into the frozen darkness.

.-.-.-.-.-.

“The way I see it,” Fury said, standing in front of Tony’s holding cell, “you have two choices.”

“And those would be?” Tony asked, knowing he’d go for the third option regardless.

Fury glared at him, as if he could tell what Tony was planning. Tony hoped he couldn’t. “Either you can tell my scientists how you made the vibranium element, or you can kindly donate your own.”

Tony resisted the urge to flinch back and cover his arc reactor. He couldn’t show any weakness in front of the director. “And what if I say no?”

Fury raised an eyebrow, eyes tracing down Tony’s chest. Tony turned away, getting it. “Give me time to think about it.”

“Time?” Fury snorted. “You’re out of time, Stark.”

“No, you are,” Tony told him. “Aren’t you?”

Fury’s silence answered it all.

Tony huffed. “I don’t remember exactly what I did, okay?” A lie, but Fury didn’t need to know that. “I need to think about the calculations. Come back in two hours, bring your little kid researchers, and you’ll have your damn element.”

“One hour,” Fury said, walking away before Tony could respond.

Tony glared hatefully at the director’s back, but didn’t move until he was out of sight. Once the man was, however, he sprung into action.

The side panel, the one in the only blind spot in the security camera’s view, came off easily. Tony grabbed the third red wire on the left with confident hands, having run through the procedure mentally many times before.

He never built a cage that he didn’t know how to escape from.

Tony did a rudimentary loop of the camera, not enough to fool anyone for long, but it would buy him a little time. The small black switch hidden under a mass of supposedly tangled lines opened the hatch door.

Smirking to himself, Tony made a run for it. He passed through two halls without seeing a single soul and then forced himself to walk as he reached the stairwell. He figured that Fury would expect him to escape to the hanger and so he padded down, towards street level.

The first three agents barely glanced at him and Tony made sure to look as disinterested as he likely always did. Just as he’d reached the ground floor, the alarm sounded.

But by the time anyone mobilized, Tony was out the door and down into the crowded subway station just across the street.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve waited until the doctors were out of sight before he pulled off the many cords surrounding him and slipped out of bed. The world tilted dangerously for a long moment before it righted itself and Steve walked unsteadily to the door.

The hallway was clear, at least for now. Steve walked down it, unsure of where he was going but something in him just need to be away from the white-washed room that bespoke cold pain.

A door was cracked to his right and Steve peered in, noticing a stairwell. “This place is a maze,” he muttered as he walked over to it and then looked down.

Steve walked down three flights before deciding to take the door to the hallway. He’d never been to this section of the HQ and it seemed more brightly lit than the one he’d come from, though that could just be his imagination.

Barely three minutes into his wandering, Steve caught sight of a striking couple with their heads bent close together, walking towards him.

“It isn’t right,” the male said, wearing a dark purple shirt and black leather pants plastered tightly over his body.

“It is not our decision,” the female replied. She, too, wore skin tight clothes, though hers were all black. Her hair was a scarlet shade of red and she was the first to notice Steve’s presence, judging by the flick of her eyes towards him.

“Stark hasn’t done anything to deserve this kind of behavior,” the male muttered, distressed.

“Excuse me,” Steve interrupted, since there was no escaping from them now. “Did you say Stark?”

The male glanced at him, startled. He saw as they both took in his white tee and the obvious glowing device under it. “Yeah,” he said. “Tony Stark.”

“Tony?” Steve frowned.

The two exchanged a glance. “Captain America?” the female asked softly.

Steve blinked. “Yeah,” he said roughly.

“What did they do to you?” the male breathed.

Steve looked between them, shrugged, and told them all he knew. Which was, to be quite frank, not much.

It was enough, apparently, for them. Fifteen minutes later, Steve was slipping on red boots that seemed made for him, his familiar shield strapped to his arm like a comforting blanket. He vowed to never let it go again, even just it’s mere presence was enough to raise his energy levels significantly.

“-and then he just told the world he was Iron Man,” Clint, as he’d introduced himself, said. “Was a hell of a shocker for a lot of people.”

“But why did Director Fury lock him up?” Steve asked, still confused about that part.

It was Natasha that answered. “The director and Stark have not always been on the best terms.”

“That’s an understatement,” Clint muttered.

“Besides,” Natasha continued. “He will not stay in his cell long. Not Tony Stark.”

As if on cue, a loud siren sounded across the compound. All three froze, and then Clint laughed. “What do you know?”

“That’s for him?” Steve asked, worried about how long he’d been out of his bed. The doctors had surely come to check on him by now.

“Most likely,” Natasha said. “Go, now is your chance.”

Steve thought of the voice he’d heard, pitched low with anger and disbelief all rolled into one drawl. “Thank you, both of you.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Clint told him. “Good luck, Captain.”

Steve turned and then, at the door, twisted back around. He gave them both a proper salute, valuing the honest surprise in their faces. Smiling for what seemed the first time since he’d woken up in the future, Steve fled.

In retrospect, he might have done better to wait until the buzz died down, Steve thought as he found a hoard of agents blocking his path to the street outside of the building. He tried to look as if he belong, striding purposefully towards them.

“Who are you?” an agent asked suspiciously and Steve knew he’d failed.

The first couple of warning shots bounced of his shield in such a familiar manner that Steve found himself  _grinning_. That only seemed to bolster the agents, however, as they grabbed at him as he barreled his way through them.

One shot grazed him against the chest, ripping at his softer uniform and pinging against his arc reactor. Steve swung around, ramming the agent in the side of the head. He was never more pleased that he still seemed to have his super strength as he fought his way through the opposition.

Nearly to the door, dizziness overtook him and Steve stumbled, retching dryly. An agent managed to grab onto the middle of his shirt, ripping the hole already produced by the previous bullet.

Steve tore away, stumbling into another suit-wearing guard. He felt weak, but also determined. He would not go back to that hospital bed, he couldn’t.

 _Stark_ , Steve told himself. He had to get to Stark.

With a roar, Steve jumped, launching himself over the last remaining agents blocking his way and tearing out into the street.

.-.-.-.-.-.

“It’s not like it’ll be any different than normal,” Tony told Pepper, grateful for the earpiece function of the newest Stark phone as he zipped up another duffle.

“No,” Pepper laughed, but it was a small one. “That’s true, I suppose.”

“Virginia Potts, the greatest CEO in the history of Stark Industries,” Tony said.

Pepper sighed. “I feel so bad, Tony. I told you to-”

“Stop right there,” Tony cut her off, placing the duffle in the lift that would automatically store it in his jet’s cargo hold. “You didn’t force me to do anything. I’m a real grown up man and you’re not my mother.”

“Are you sure about that?” Pepper asked, sounding only slightly better.

“I made the decision to hack into SHIELD and I made the mistake of not covering my tracks properly,” Tony said. Internally, he shrugged. He hadn’t figured that Fury would really mind, but then again, he knew the real reason that the director had put him in the holding cell and that was something he never planned on telling Pepper.

“Well, the Board will certainly be happy that they don’t have to deal with your meetings,” Pepper murmured. “You never could get there on time.”

“You do it so well for me,” Tony grinned. “You can run the company, I’ll just be a long-distance consultant.”

“Like normal,” Pepper said.

“Like normal,” Tony echoed.

Pepper snorted. “You better bet that I’ll be visiting you, Tony Stark.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ms. Potts,” Tony told her, looking around his nearly emptied lab. He needed to make sure his new location was secure enough to continue to work on the SHIELD database. If he could perhaps feed in the correct information to their archives they’d be able to help the captain without knowing it was him.

He wondered why he was so bothered about leaving. Fury wasn’t even going to let him _be_  on the Avengers and Iron Man had never just been a consulting hero… it was unfinished business, the thought. Some damn backwater agents had managed to steal his arc reactor and insert it into a man without any knowledge of what they were doing to him.

And that, Tony decided, was where Fury crossed the line. Unfortunately, without direct access to the captain, he wasn’t so sure he could fix it.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve’s chest ached, his sides burning and his legs shivering. He’d run until he couldn’t anymore and it was only by sheer luck that he’d found himself in a familiar neighborhood.

“Howard,” Steve muttered. He looked up at the impressive mansion.

It had been a safe haven, Steve remembered, outside of the base. A place to go in the bustle of New York City, during the prime time of his fame as Captain America. Howard was always there with a smile and a bottle of scotch. And no matter the fact that Steve could no longer get drunk, those long nights in his friend’s study had been a soft light in the gloom of the long war.

Howard’s old house was the place Steve had thought of in the roughest nights over seas. Not his old home in Brooklyn, but this expanse of rooms and maids and laughter spoke to him  _home_.

Now, he prayed that this mansion would be the safe haven he’d always dreamed it as.

The window was easy to punch in and thought Steve cringed at the thought of damaging what once had been Howard’s property, he figured that, were Howard still alive, he wouldn’t mind. The house was dark and empty as Steve wandered through it, hoping it would give him a clue as to the whereabouts of Howard’s son.

“State your identity.”

Steve jumped, holding up his shield reflexively. When nothing happen for several moments, he looked around for the speaker of the voice.

“I ask that you state your name and purpose for being here,” the disembodied voice said again.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said, because he still couldn’t find where the source of the voice was coming from.

“Steve Rogers,” the voice stated. “Other aliases, Captain Rogers, Captain America, the First Avenger.”

Steve took a step back. “Who are you?”

“I am JARVIS,” the voice said. “The AI designed by Mister Tony Stark. And you, Mr. Rogers, are intruding on personal property.”

“Please,” Steve said. “Can you tell me where Tony is? I need to talk to him.”

The… AI? was silent for several minutes. “You have in your possession the missing arc reactor from Mister Stark’s lab.”

“I don’t-” Steve licked his lips. “I didn’t steal it. I woke up with it in me and I just want it out.”

“Mister Stark will be glad to know of its whereabouts,” JARVIS said. “Follow me.”

Follow? Steve frowned, until he saw that the floor had lit up in a direct path ahead. Shrugging, Steve followed, looking around curiously at the changes in the mansion as he was led, hopefully, to Tony.

A head whirl of memories conflicting with differences later, and Steve found himself standing outside the clear door that opened up to a room sprawling with gadgets.

“JARVIS,” the man in the center of the room said, his back to Steve. “I need to you triple check the possible connectivity to the jet’s mainframe.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said.

“And make sure the suit is secured properly, I don’t want it damaged in the flight,” the man, and this undoubtedly had to be Tony, tapped on the desk he was staring at.

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS agreed.

Steve stepped forward just a bit more and cleared his throat. “Tony Stark?”

The man whirled in place, dark curls bouncing around his forehead as wide brown eyes stared at him.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Tony gaped. “Who… JARVIS?”

“Mr. Steve Rogers is here to see you, sir,” JARVIS said and if he weren’t an AI, Tony would think he was kidding.

“Steve Rogers?” Tony’s eyes fell from bright blue irises down to catalogue the fading bruises and then to the tear in an all too familiar uniform. “Captain America.”

“I think I’m done with that name,” the captain, Steve, said. He stepped farther into the lab.

Tony let his eyes move back up from the glowing arc reactor. “I wonder why,” he remarked dryly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve said, holding out a hand.

Tony took two steps forward before he realized he should be more cautious. But then again, this was  _Captain America_. Tony had grown up hearing stories about this man. He took the hand, frowning as he felt the slight tremors behind his fingers. “It’s my pleasure,” he murmured.

“Are you leaving?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said. Before he could say anything else, however, Steve suddenly jerked, as if he were about to fall only to catch himself halfway through starting the movement. “Shit, you look terrible. Sit down.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, communicating wordlessly the problem of not having a chair. Tony found himself flushing and wondered at how easily he could read the man. “You have one too.”

Tony nodded and carefully prodded Steve to lean against the table. “Mine’s a newer model.”

“Can I,” Steve cut himself off. “I don’t know what’s going on…”

And damn it if he didn’t look so  _lost_  in that moment. Tony swallowed dryly. “Don’t worry, Captain. Steve,” he said. “I’ll fix this, I promise.”

Steve’s eyes showed his relief. “Thank you,” he whispered weakly.

“I need to run some tests,” Tony pulled back, suddenly too hot. “Build a new reactor for you, one that won’t conflict with the serum in your blood, but-”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, a hand touching his arm. “I’ll go with you, okay? You can run your tests and do whatever later. Just, I don’t think we should stay here.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed. He took in a lungful of air and then said more strongly, “Yeah, we can do that.”

.-.-.-.-.-.

**ONE YEAR LATER**

“ _Iron Man and The Avenger strike again,_ ” the news anchor announced from the television. “ _As always living up to their names, these villains struck with unrelenting force. Another corporate was shut down in an explosion that, surprisingly, resulted in no deaths and very few casualties. Recently, we’ve learned that this company was part of a child-factory scandal, more on that at eight._ ”

“Why are you watching that crap?” Tony asked from the den, his head bent over a computer pad.

“It’s kind of funny,” Steve smiled, though Tony couldn’t see. “Dinner’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony muttered, already engrossed back in his work.

Steve rolled his eyes, launching himself up from the couch with the kind of ease he’d been missing the year prior. He padded to the kitchen, staring out the huge set of windows that looked down upon the mid-sized city they now lived in. They’d been living in Italy for the better part of nine months, but now that they were back in the USA, Steve could honestly stay he was far more comfortable.

Steven and Antonio Romano, the young Italian married couple had easily been granted work visas to come live within the land of the free. Steve smiled at the thought, thumb twisting his simple gold wedding back around almost absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, walking into the kitchen and slipping around to Steve’s side.

Steve slid an arm across his husband’s waist, still amazed even months after the wedding that he could do this, that Tony was his. “Us, how we got here.”

“You’re a big sap, you know that?” Tony sighed.

Chuckling, Steve kissed Tony on the lips softly. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“That’s the rumor,” Tony leaned forward and returned the kiss, deepening it in a show of impatience that was just so… Tony. He pulled back after a while, panting. “And besides, who would Iron Man be without his partner-in-crime?”

“The CEO of Stark Industries,” Steve said.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Have you been talking to Pepper again?”

Steve laughed and nodded. “She and Rhodey will be by next week for dinner.”

“Can’t wait,” Tony remarked dryly, but his eyes twinkled. “Now come on, lover boy, your lasagna is burning.”

Yeah, Steve thought as he took their dinner out of the oven, this might not have been the future he’d ever imagined himself, but, basking in the warmth of the sunlight streaming through their penthouse windows and the sight of his genius of a husband mindlessly setting the table, it wasn’t one he didn’t think he could ever find it in himself to regret.


End file.
